


There's Magic Between You & Me

by mdashes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3420554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdashes/pseuds/mdashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So you think you've been cursed because a SoCal hippie pointed a crystal at you and then you fucked your bandmate," Zayn says, his best attempt at a recap.</p><p>"That sounds so stupid," Louis says. "I can't believe this is happening. If you tell anyone they'll never find your body."</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Magic Between You & Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlepinkbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepinkbow/gifts).



> DEAR MODS: Thank you so much for all your hard work, and for putting up with me being sooo last minute on this! <3
> 
> Set during some indeterminate future point on the OTRA tour, not that it matters all that much.
> 
> With inspiration from:  
>  _1\. A Louis-centric kink exploration fic. Louis going to each of the other lads to inquire about partaking in different kinks with him and after being with each guy somehow they find out what Louis has done. Rather than being upset with Louis, they trick Louis into a night with all of them and you can take it from there (maybe louis doesn't take it well? maybe he does... I'm up for anything!)_
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, littlepinkbow!
> 
> *** I tried to make it clear that all the sex in this fic is pretty enthusiastically consensual, but there's definitely an element of plot-device-made-me-do-it. I wanna make sure everyone's informed enough to stay within their fic-reading comfort level! ***

"Um," Liam says, staring down at the condom and lube in his hands. "This wasn't quite what I had in mind when you asked me to do you a favor."

"Not up for it, then?" Louis says, voice kinda soft, unusually indoor-appropriate, like he's asking Liam's opinion on a new verse he's not sure about.

"Yes," Liam says quickly. Wait. "I mean, no? I mean, yes, I'm up for it, if you really want me to—"

Louis steps forward.

"To, um," Liam says. "I—"

Louis kisses him. It's all rather sudden, his hands gripping tight to Liam's biceps, kisses slow and sweet and chaste in a way that Liam expects to last all of five seconds. Liam's used to the scratch of Louis' beard against his skin from all the biting and sucking and bruising and general abuse Louis subjects him to, but his lips feel softer than Liam was expecting, pressed up against his own.

Are all lips just the same, Liam wonders, or is it just that Louis has lips more like a girl's than a boy's? He makes a mental note to ask one of the other boys if he can touch their mouths just a little bit, just to see.

Louis pulls away and Liam smiles what he hopes is an encouraging and not at all manic smile. It must not be too off-putting, because Louis leans in again to scrape his teeth over the edge of Liam's jaw and then kisses him properly, letting Liam bite at his lips and suck on his tongue.

Liam wants to pull Louis closer, mess with his hair a bit, maybe dip his fingers below his waistband to squeeze at his arse, but he's still got his hands full like an idiot, phone in one hand, condom and questionable tube of personal lubricant from the bottom of Louis' suitcase full of dirty socks in the other.

He twists around in a hurry to set the phone down on the dresser when Louis drops a hand to feel out the shape of Liam's cock in his jeans. Liam's _really_ hard.

"Against the wall," Louis says, releasing Liam's cock to pull his vest over his head. "It has to be against the wall. Hold me up."

"Against the wall?" Liam repeats, aghast. Louis might be smaller than him, but the fact that Liam can carry him piggyback around an empty stadium doesn't necessarily mean he can do _that_ , plus—"Someone will _hear_."

"Huh, I guess that's a possibility," Louis says, unfazed, and takes off his jeans. He's not wearing any underwear. "Give me that."

"What?" Liam says, staring, but Louis has already snatched the condom from his hand.

"Don't mean to rush you," Louis says, unbuttoning Liam's jeans, "but we're on stage in two hours and I'm—" He pulls Liam's cock out through his pants, makes an appreciative noise. "I'm gonna want a shower after this, meself."

He tears the condom wrapper open with his teeth. It's a lot less sexy given that Liam's seen him do the same to about a million bags of crisps and a lot of undeserving video game packaging.

"Wait," Liam says belatedly. He's done this before. Not with a guy, but, you know, anal. "Shouldn't we—I mean, I don't want to hurt you."

"All taken care of," Louis says. "You can feel, if you want."

It seems a bit forward, going straight for a man's arsehole, so Liam takes the long way 'round, kissing him and running a hand over his chest, pinching at his nipple far less meanly than he usually would, then up the back of his thigh, pulling him in so Liam's cock is snug against his hip, and up to where he's already slick with lube. Liam slips two fingers in at once, feeling a bit cheeky, and Louis jerks against him.

"Yeah," he says, sounding ragged as he shifts on Liam's fingers, adjusting. "Think about how good I'm gonna feel on your cock."

"I am," Liam says honestly, slowly withdrawing his fingers.

It's still all he's thinking about when he's got Louis pressed up against the nearest stretch of wall that isn't covered by a landscape painting or flatscreen TV (hotels, honestly), hands curled around Louis' thighs, muscles straining, his cock sliding slippery along the cleft of Louis' arse.

"Little help?" he pants.

"Be more specific," Louis says, crossing his heels behind Liam's back.

"Hold onto my shoulders," he says. Louis obliges, and he can finally— _finally_ —get one hand free for just long enough to line up the head of his cock and push in.

"Fuck," Louis says, bracing himself with his hands so he sinks down slow and easy.

" _Oh_ ," Liam manages. "You're so tight."

"Obviously," Louis says, clenching around him. His cock hasn't flagged at all, still caught just as stiff and flushed between them, brushing up against Liam's flannel shirt in what has got to be an awful tease for him. "Come on, fuck me."

Liam pulls out as much as he can and rocks back up into him, trying his best to hold him steady, then again and again, faster than is really comfortable for his arms or his shaking thighs, but just about as slow as his dick can handle. He should add this to his workout routine. He'd be outdoing Harry on all the gym machines in no time.

"Harder," Louis demands, just as soon as Liam thinks he's got a handle on things and is feeling relatively optimistic about his ability to keep doing this until they both come.

Liam does the best he can, but his whole body's on fire and his shirt is sticking to him in all the wrong places and Louis feels so good on his cock he can't think.

Louis is slipping, too, his skin slick with sweat and impossible to hold onto, so Liam shifts his weight to readjust his grip on Louis' thighs. He doesn't intend to slam Louis down on his cock in the process. It just happens.

" _Ah_ —" Louis grunts, like the air's been forced out of him.

"Sorry," Liam says, but Louis is shaking his head, drops a hand from Liam's shoulder to tug at his cock.

"Replay," he says, wicked.

"Lou, I don't know if I can..." Liam grits out, jaw clenched, but he does, somehow, lifting Louis up and pulling him down hard.

"Replay," Louis gasps, and Liam shuts him up with a kiss until Louis pulls away to pant against his mouth, whimpering softly with each exhale until he moans, high-pitched, "Fuck. Oh, fuck," and comes.

Liam replays the sounds in his head again after, trying to push himself over the edge before his legs give out, and it works, but only barely—he very nearly drops Louis as he shoots off inside him, has to sink down to his knees to pull out.

"Passable," Louis says—incredibly unfairly, since Liam doesn't have the energy to protest—but helpfully ties off the condom and tucks Liam back into his jeans. "See you backstage."

\----------

"Do you believe in magic?" Louis says, perched on the bunk opposite Zayn's. It's technically Niall's, but everyone else is in the hotel right now, leaving just the two of them to party the night away on Bus 1. Their kind of partying tends to involve a lot of torrented cartoons and fruit snacks. It's usually more of a sleepover than anything.

Zayn shrugs. "Not really."

"See," Louis says, "normally I'd say the same, but I'm starting to think I may have been cursed."

"I'm usually all for you blaming your problems on other people, but that's going a bit far," Zayn says.

"Please, Zayn," Louis says, long-suffering. "Just hear me out."

"Cursed by _who_?"

"Well," Louis says, looking shifty. "You know that weed I got in San Diego? From that dealer that Luke knew?"

"You got cursed by a drug dealer?"

"Shut up," Louis says. "I show up at her place and she has all these new-agey crystals and you know, like, fat buddha statues and she told me she could, like, see my fuckin' aura or summat and it was _unbalanced_..."

Zayn scoffs.

"...and I'm like, that's nice, love, but this is a business outing, so she weighs out the nugs and then she says, like, I could either pay for it with cash or I could let her do something for me."

"Holy shit," Zayn says. "That was, like, £300 worth of weed."

"I know," Louis says. " _Obviously_ I said she could do what she wanted, and then she goes off on this ramble about I'd be so much better off if I stopped _repressing things_ because I didn't want anything that you lads didn't want too, and then she says she hoped I'd enjoy living out my, uh." He makes airquotes. "Deepest darkest fantasies, were her words exactly, I believe."

"Wow," Zayn says.

"She was feeling up one of these crystals the whole time and just giving off these vibes that really creeped me out, to be honest. I mean, I definitely felt kind of weird about the whole thing but I smoked up in the car back to the hotel and that helped, I suppose, but then I had sex with Liam yesterday—"

Zayn's been listening to music with a single earbud in his left ear. He tugs it out. "Wait," he says. "Our Liam? Payno? With the birthmark here," he indicates, "and the tattoos and the puppy eyes? You had sex with that Liam yesterday?"

"Yes," Louis says. "Keep up."

Louis is a pretty good liar, but Zayn's always been better. Louis pulls some weird shit on them sometimes, but this is above and beyond. Zayn's pretty sure he's telling the truth.

"So you think you've been cursed because a SoCal hippie pointed a crystal at you and then you fucked your bandmate," Zayn says, his best attempt at a recap.

"That sounds so stupid," Louis says. "I can't believe this is happening. If you tell anyone they'll never find your body."

"What kind of sex?" Zayn says curiously. He wants to picture it. He knows Louis is into guys, sometimes, but he certainly didn't know that about Liam. Maybe Liam didn't know that about Liam.

"Could be relevant information, I guess," Louis says. "Got him to hold me up against the wall in my hotel room and fuck me."

Zayn whistles, impressed. "Nice, bro."

"I didn't mean to ask him," Louis says. "It just kind of happened. It's like I knew what to do and whenever I thought about stopping it, like, not texting him in the first place or passing it off as a joke, it kind of made me freak out, like I couldn't breathe."

"Okay," Zayn says, and tries to hold his voice steady and, like, sound supportive, "so you think you've been cursed to, what, get off with everyone in the band?"

"Well, sort of," Louis says vaguely. Zayn thinks there might be a part of it that Louis isn't telling him, but it's probably none of his business, anyway. "I think it's more specific than just getting off, anyway."

"Huh," Zayn says. "You know what you're gonna have to do with everyone else?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," Louis says. There's the barest hint of a flush in his cheeks, and a bit of skin is exposed where the joggers he stole from Zayn are slipping down on his hips. Zayn tries not to imagine what he looks like when he comes. He doesn't want to jump the gun.

"So?" he pushes.

"You think you could, like, slap me around a bit?" Louis says quietly. "Like, spank me until I come?"

Zayn wasn't expecting that, exactly. His cock twitches violently in his pants.

"Think I could do that, yeah," he says.

The bunks are cramped and the only way Zayn can see to do it is to sit with his feet dangling over the side and lay Louis down flat over his lap.

Louis is tense, goes tenser still when Zayn smoothes a hand over his arse.

"She was right, you know," Zayn says. "I really want to do this."

"Oh," Louis says. His cock is half-hard against Zayn's thigh.

"You think about this before?" Zayn asks, squeezing through the soft cotton of his sweats. "Ever wank off to it?"

"Yeah," Louis says. "Just a couple times."

"Shit," Zayn says, with feeling. "That's so hot."

"Would you get on with it," Louis says, and Zayn brings his hand down on his arse.

He thinks he's being pretty gentle, just to start out, but Louis winces immediately.

"It was just—pretty rough with Liam," he says.

"Oh," Zayn says. "You wanna wait 'til another day? Think you can?"

"Not sure I can fit that in my calendar," Louis says. "Have a lot on my plate at the moment."

"Louis," Zayn warns.

"Think it has to be now," Louis says. "I can handle it."

Zayn hits him again and he gasps, buries his face into the rumpled sheets.

"Can I take these off?" Zayn says, pushing at the waistband of Louis' joggers and pants.

"Yeah," Louis says, muffled, and Zayn tugs them off him.

Zayn's gotten an eyeful of the whole band's naked arses before, and Louis' stands out among the rest just for not being, like, blindingly pale. His skin is smooth and tan, and it'll be that much more of a challenge to get it bright red like Zayn wants it.

"Tell me if it's too much," Zayn says, and hits harder, this time. The sound of it reverberates, a loud, satisfying smack.

"Fucking _ow_ ," Louis says, then, "Is that all you've got, mate?"

Zayn laughs incredulously. "Can't believe you're bitching at me while I'm spanking your bare arse," he says.

Louis snorts. "Always have time to bitch at you," he says sweetly.

Zayn ends up taking his time with it, pausing between hits to rub his palm over Louis' skin, tease at his hole with the tips of his fingers, and squeeze at his own cock, when it gets hard to take.

He does it until Louis is shaking, 'til two hard slaps in a row are enough to make him jerk and drive his hips forward, shoving his cock into Zayn's thigh.

"That's right, babe," Zayn says.

"Fuck," Louis says, rocking steadily down into Zayn's thigh, now, like he's given up on holding still. "Zayn, fuck, I'm so fucking hard." He sounds kind of surprised.

"Me too," Zayn assures him.

Zayn keeps at it until he's got a wet spot on his sweats from Louis' precome and his hand is stinging.

"Hey," he says, "Get on your hands and knees for me, yeah?"

There's a bit of scrambling around to make it work in the bunk, but they manage.

The skin of Louis' arse feels hot when Zayn spreads him open, rubbing his thumb over the rim of his hole. He can hear Louis breathing, loud and uneven, and then the choked noise he makes when Zayn drags his tongue over it.

"This wasn't part of my thing," Louis says.

"I know," Zayn says.

It takes hardly anything to get Louis rocking back against his tongue, just a bit of spit and some finesse.

Zayn gets a hand on Louis' cock as he rims him, not really doing much, just feeling it throb in his hand, stroking up to catch Louis' precome on his knuckles. He likes feeling how much Louis is enjoying this, likes holding on so that Louis can't fuck into his palm like he's trying to.

He's gotta really bury his face in Louis' arse to get at it without holding him open, but it's cool, that's what he's here for, anyway.

Louis practically sobs when Zayn hits him again, a firm slap on one cheek without taking his mouth from Louis' arse. He collapses down onto his elbows, and his hole, loose and open from Zayn's tongue, tenses up again.

"Please," he says.

"Shh," Zayn says, "I gotcha," and slaps him again, his thumb dragging cruelly over the slick, sensitive head of Louis' cock.

"Oh," Louis says, voice breaking, "Oh, I—" and comes all over Zayn's hand.

\----------

Louis is really put together for an off day. He's shaved and put product in his hair, and his ratty black jeans aren't exactly award show material, but they're a big step up from sweatpants.

Liam and Harry have ventured out to meet some fans, but as far as Niall knows, all the rest of them are doing today is sitting around in the hotel and signing a few hundred posters for charity.

"Going out later?" Niall says, chewing at the end of his sharpie.

"No," Louis says. "Why?"

Niall shrugs.

"Chest hair's looking good today," Louis says, apropos of nothing. "I think you grow more of the stuff every day."

Niall's wearing sleeveless plaid, just the top two buttons undone—he's no Harry Styles.

"What can I say," he says, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "I'm more man than the four of you put together."

"It really is everywhere, isn't it," Louis says, and slips a hand under the hem of Niall's shirt to scratch at his belly, just above the waist of his jeans. He twists Niall's pubes around his finger and gives them a hard tug.

"Jesus, Louis," Niall says, shoving him off.

"Sorry," Louis says insincerely. "It's just weird to see you grown up. Girls go crazy over it, don't they?"

"Dunno," Niall says.

"That why you wear clothes like this? Showing off?" He grab hold of Niall's wrist and pushes Niall's arm up above his head so that Niall's forearm is pressed against the wall behind the couch, then appears to stare appraisingly at Niall's armpit.

"What—" Niall says. "What the _fuck_."

"Just seeing what all the fuss is about," Louis says. The intensity in his eyes makes Niall shiver, a little, and let out a little panicked laugh.

"This is kinda weird," he says.

"Don't act like you hate it so much," Louis says, and rubs his free hand over the stubble at the side of Niall's jaw.

"Uh," Niall says, frozen.

"In fact," Louis continues, "if it weren't for the fact that you're one of my best mates, Niall, I might almost think you were getting off on me looking at you like this."

Niall knows he's setting himself up to be an easy target, reacting the way he does when they tease him like this, but he can't help it. He breaks eye contact and curls in on himself, hugging a throw pillow to his chest. "Sorry," he mutters.

"Don't _apologize_ ," Louis says, which makes Niall feels worse. "Hey, Nialler. I like it."

"What?" Niall says.

"Tell me if I'm reading this wrong," Louis says, but he looks very sure of himself. Niall lets him undo the third button on his shirt, then the fourth, his heart beating double-time.

"You're not," Niall says.

Louis drags his small, blunt fingers through the hair on Niall's chest. "I know it's been a while since I've bought you a drink, but I'll get you one after if you like."

"It's the thought that counts," Niall says. He reels Louis in and kisses him.

"You don't mind if I try something, right?" Louis asks when they part for air. "You don't have to do anything but get your clothes off."

"Isn't Zayn gonna come down to help us with these?" Niall waves at the posters.

"He won't bother us," Louis says.

"Yeah, okay," Niall says.

Niall doesn't really know what's going on once they're both naked, way too distracted by how good Louis looks, which is the only reason Louis is able to maneuver him so that he's straddling Niall's waist.

Louis leans over to digs around in the pocket of his jeans on the floor and comes up with a bottle of lube.

"Hang on," Niall says. "Why the fuck are you carrying _that_ around?"

"Well, you just never know, do you, Niall?" Louis says, smirking, but Niall's smarter than that.

"You planned this," he says.

"Might've done," Louis says, squirting some into his palm and spreading it over his cock, working his hand over it until it's shiny and deep pink and so hard Louis can push it down and let it slap up against his belly, which he does, several times, before he goes back to jerking off with the kind of slow, teasing stroke that no one really uses when they're getting off by themselves—no one without way too much free time, anyway. The sounds of it are wet and obscene, especially in this shared hotel suite that probably seven or eight people from their crew have the keys to.

He's heavier than he looks, and it's hard for Niall to move, but he wants to.

"Don't touch," Louis says, like he knows what Niall's thinking, then he shuts his eyes and moans, like he wants to make it as hard as possible for Niall to obey.

Niall reaches around him to get at his own cock.

"Don't touch," Louis repeats, sharp.

"Hey," Niall says. "I'm not touching _you_." He drops his hand anyway.

He thinks Louis might stop, is the thing, if Niall didn't listen to him, so he just lies there, going steadily mad and waiting until Louis is finished with him.

Louis is so close that Niall can watch the muscles in his stomach tense and hear the low, whining hitch in his breath as he comes. Niall curls his toes and holds his breath and tries not to be too obvious about the way he's thrusting his hips up into the air like it might give him some relief.

Louis lets go of his messy cock, finally, gets up and tosses Niall the lube. "Alright, then. Show me what you've got."

Niall's all too happy to oblige.

Louis looks at him a bit strangely afterwards. "Sorry if that was weird," he says.

"Wasn't too weird," Niall says, "I liked it."

"Good," Louis says. "Always happy to broaden your horizons, young Niall."

"Nah, I've done loads of kinky stuff," Niall says proudly. "Got head while I was driving once."

"Really?" Louis says.

"It was a golf cart," Niall admits.

"Oh my god," Louis chokes out. "I can't believe I hang out with you."

\----------

Louis puts it off for three days, after Niall. Three days of about-face turns in hotel corridors when he realizes it isn't his room he's walking towards at all, of shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid.

Niall's been staring blatantly at him on stage and Liam's, well, he's not really touching Louis any less, but he gets pretty red now whenever he grabs Louis' ass. He wonders if Harry has noticed. Hopes that he hasn't.

Zayn, at least, is just silly and quietly fond, like always, but Louis has gotten him off five times in the past week, so he'd damn well better be.

On the fourth day, they have a show, and afterwards, he's too tired to resist. He isn't stupid. He knows he's been living on borrowed time. It's like he's being dragged, this time, but he doesn't want Harry to see him losing control, so he stands up straight and walks there like he means to.

"Louis," Harry says, and leans out the door to look down the hallway, like he expects someone else to be trailing along behind. "Um. What can I do for you?"

"Harold," Louis says, and breezes by him into the hotel room. He kicks off his Vans and stacks most of Harry's pillows against the headboard of Harry's bed so he can settle back against it comfortably. "Been quite a while since we've spent some quality time together, hasn't it?"

"What?" Harry says. "I see you every day."

"And you're sick of me already?" Louis says, faux-wounded.

"What's this all about?" Harry says, quiet and serious.

"Just miss this," Louis mumbles, but no, that's not quite right.

Harry blinks, pushes his hair back from his face.

"Just miss _you_ ," Louis tries, and there, he can breathe a bit easier already. "That's all. Do you really have to make it into a thing?"

"Wasn't making anything into anything," Harry says slowly, warily.

"Let's just get this over with," Louis says, and then pats the duvet next to him. "C'mere. Anything good on telly?"

Harry sits cross-legged beside him, dropping the remote between them. Louis misses the days when all they could afford were rooms with queen beds and there wasn't all this _space_ everywhere.

Still, Harry's not too far for Louis to tug sideways into his lap as he flips through the channels, and he's blissfully silent as Louis slides his fingers through the long, loose curls at the back of his neck. It feels so good to let himself have this again, to remember the easy way they used to touch each other, how naturally they'd adjust to fit into each other's space. Harry's stale-gum breath and clumsy excess of limbs, his big hands and the way he used to look at Louis like...

There was a time, maybe, when Louis wanted more, but thinking about that now sends his head into a tailspin.

He leaves the TV on a channel that's midway through The Hangover II because he doesn't actually care what they're watching.

"Seriously, is everything okay?" Harry asks at the commercial break, looking up at him with a puzzled, worried expression, but he doesn't move away, just wriggles his shoulders to get settled. "Should I call someone?"

"I'm not dying," Louis snaps, and Harry sighs.

"Okay," he says.

Louis lets himself relax, just for a moment, or a few hours, whatever. Harry's warm and soft and heavy and it wouldn't do to move him.

He's the best for this, is all. Niall's too twitchy for a proper cuddle, always bouncing a knee or chewing at his nails, though he makes for a pretty good pillow when he's drunk. Zayn is cozy and compact and affectionate, casual, keeps his hands to himself. Liam snuggles like a champ, probably, but Louis hasn't spent enough time close to him to find out without tweaking at his nipples or stealing his tea, even though the sugar's atrocious.

Harry's pliant, responsive—a bit weird, but in a nice way. He makes soft, familiar noises of contentment when Louis scratches at his scalp or rubs a thumb over the inside of his wrist.

Harry gets up and brushes his teeth about halfway through the second overplayed movie of the evening.

"I'm going to bed," he says when he comes out of the bathroom. "You can stay or go."

"Sleep better when you're here," Harry murmurs later, when the lights are off and he's stopped fucking around with his phone.

The thing about Harry is, he probably thinks he means it. He'll drop whole pieces of his life—people, places, feelings—and pick them up again months or years later like nothing has happened. He does it with Nick, with his friends from Holmes Chapel and his friends from LA, with the boys, sometimes, even, after a break.

Louis isn't like that. He breathes in vanilla and expensive cologne and pretends to be asleep.

\----------

Louis is gone when Harry wakes up, but the pillows on the other side of the bed smell like his shampoo. Harry rolls over to bury him face in them and groans. He wonders what he did this time and if he can do it again, wonders if Louis will be mad at him for this, or mad at himself, or both, whatever.

"Has Louis, like, said anything weird lately?" he asks Niall and Liam over breakfast.

"What counts as weird," Liam says slowly.

"Out of the ordinary?" Harry tries.

"Yeah, I would say so," Niall says.

"Definitely," Liam says.

"Oh," Harry says. "Care to elaborate?"

"I guess he didn't tell me not to say anything about it," Liam says.

"Huh," Niall says. "You first."

They catch each other up.

"He knows—he knows we'd do anything for him, right?" Harry says, finally, half-hard and embarrassed about it, since it's obvious that's not what Louis wants from him. "He just has to ask."

"I would do anything for love—" Niall sings immediately.

"Don't do it," Harry begs.

"—BUT I WON'T DO THAT," Niall bellows.

"For fuck's sake, Niall," Harry says. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."

"Maybe we should see what Zayn thinks," Niall says.

Liam nods fervently.

"Okay," Harry says. "I'll text him."

\----------

Louis can't find anyone tonight. He tries Bus 1 first, then Bus 2, then all four hotel rooms in turn, and finally walks to his own room in a bit of a snit.

He swipes the keycard, opens the door, and freezes.

"Fuck, sorry, we kind of started the orgy without you."

"This isn't an _orgy_ , Niall," Harry says, wiping Niall's spit off his mouth with the back of his hand. "We talked about this."

"We're glad you're not cursed anymore," Liam adds helpfully.

Louis glares at Zayn, who's got his hand halfway up Liam's shirt.

Zayn shrugs.

"Not much of an orgy," Louis says, making his way towards the bed through an obstacle course of shoes, Niall's hoodie, and Harry's ostentatious YSL bag. "You're all fully dressed."

"Working on it," Zayn says.

There isn't really any extra room on the bed with the four of them there, so, naturally, Louis throws himself straight into the middle of it.

"Hey," Harry says, and kisses his cheek, quick and sweet.

Carefully, Louis turns and presses his lips to Harry's.

The world keeps turning.

"Fancy a blowjob?" Liam asks.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://songsfrombus1.tumblr.com)! :)


End file.
